
Our time was running out. After we got married five years ago, Jamie, my husband, and I couldn't quite justify the expense of a honeymoon, so we simply shelved it as a "someday" thing. And then I got pregnant, and we realized it was now or never for that deferred dream trip. Only the economy was tanking and the Dow was cellar dwelling, and in some ways, we could justify the trip even less than we could have in 2005.
Which is where
Tulum, Mexico, comes in. We could fly to Cancun using our JetBlue miles (two free round trips!), and we could stay on the beach at
Zamas for $150 a night, and we knew we could eat cheaply (I wouldn't be drinking) because we were heart-set on devouring apertivos and tacos from the main drag in town.
And when people talk about the exchange rate with Mexico--especially Tulum--they are wrong to be talking in terms of dollars to pesos. They should be talking about the pace and feel of a U.S. day to a Tulum day: The place is so low-key, so luxuriously rustic (there's an ocean breeze instead of A/C, and the peninsula runs on windpower and doesn't usually have electricity after 10 p.m.), that four days there feels like a full week's vacation.
We visited two ruins, swam in three cenotes, ate the most delicious tamales and carnitas and huaraches (sin vergules cruda, for me, in a nod to my pregnancy), and every day spent some time reading on the somewhat rocky beach at Zamas before heading up the road to the public beach, with its perfect blue water and excellent waves for body surfing. We no longer felt like our time was running out.
3:10 PM,
August 13, 2009